


Mint on the Windowsill

by AHumanFemale, tobeconspicuous



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Practical Magic Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barisi from an outside perspective, Biphobia, Crack Treated Seriously, Family Drama, Feels, Fluff, Happy halloween, Homophobia, M/M, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHumanFemale/pseuds/AHumanFemale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobeconspicuous/pseuds/tobeconspicuous
Summary: Tessa could see already that it wouldn’t happen, that Rafael Barba would never be the type to fit in with their family no matter how much Sonny seemed to like him.  It was possible Rafael already knew it himself if his demeanor was anything to go by but perhaps he still needed a… push.Tessa was magic.Rafael would never know what hit him.[Or, Sonny's mother is a witch who decides to use her magic to make Rafael miserable.]





	1. Witchy Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to our wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant beta - Robin Hood, who supports our ridiculous ideas with very few reservations.
> 
> This started off as a vague nod to Practical Magic, so half of these superstitions/sayings are from the movie Practical Magic, based on the novel by Alice Hoffman. Credit for all that goes to her, not us.
> 
> Thanks for reading our nonsense.
> 
> <3

 

Tessa Renee Conner was born on December third, 1955.  

She was brought red-faced and screaming into the world a hair after three in the morning, snow blowing in drifts outside her mother’s window while the rest of the world beyond it slept.  Witching hour, her grandmother called it, and that was why Tessa always guessed she managed to sneak around so successfully for most of her life.  It was a gift of hers, getting what she wanted without others noticing.  She could sneak out of bedtime, sneak another dessert from the kitchen after her parents had gone to bed.  She could slip out the back door and explore the woods behind their house without a soul knowing she was gone.  

She could wave goodbye and promise to behave, her father’s car keys tucked away in one coat pocket and a stolen five dollar bill in the other.  

She could slip out the door silent as the grave to meet friends around the block.

Tessa could shimmy out the window and find Dominick Carisi leaning his tall frame against the trunk of her favorite oak tree, smiling at her like she was a low-hanging fruit he only needed to rattle loose.  

And rattle he did.

A time or two.

Or ten.

It was the tenth time, she was pretty sure, that led to a shotgun Catholic wedding in the middle of the sweltering summer.  Everything in full bloom, her included.  Sweating like the sinner she was in that small chapel while Teresa kicked the living daylights out of her from the inside, nineteen years old and still too stubborn to admit she was scared.  Dom didn’t look nearly as bothered by the situation as she did, blue eyes smiling without a care in the world.  Still looking at her like she was something priceless that dropped in his lap and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten lucky enough to keep her.  When he slid that slim gold band on her finger it was with an air of accomplishment.

 _Ha_ , he seemed to say.   _And now there’s nothing you can do about it._

Not that she would want to.

And not that she would ever tell him that.

The gold band on his finger had gone on rougher than hers had, her perpetually stubborn chin tilted up and hazel eyes blazing.

_Sure that’s what you want?_

He only grinned.

Teresa was born two months later, just before the leaves started changing.  Her eyes might have belonged to Tessa but the bald head with a few strands the color of spun gold were all her father’s.  Her father, who held the bundle of blankets with an awestruck expression and tears in his eyes.  Mumbling sweet nonsense into their newborn’s ears, telling a baby who couldn’t understand a word he was saying that she was loved and she would be cared for.  

Tessa snuck a few tears, tried to turn the memory in front of her into something permanent.

There was something different about life before and after a baby, she thought from her bed while she watched the two of them.  Well, there was a lot different.  There was the sweet and easy love between two kids who hadn’t had eyes for anyone but each other since the seventh grade.  And then there was the love she’d stumbled upon that morning in the hospital, watching the love of her life transform into the man she’d seen in him years before.  Watching him soften his entire body in anticipation of holding his daughter, hearing his voice go sweet the first time he said her name.  

She realized it was because she was now laying her eyes on the man her children would grow to love.  

Tessa never recovered.

Never stopped hearing that voice in her ears when he spoke - calm and gentle, patient even when it was three in the morning and she wasn’t quite sure the last time she’d slept more than an hour.  It was only ever the new dad so in love with the lump of baby in his arms she saw, even when they fought.  Even when she screamed, even when she thought so seriously about breaking every dish they owned.  Whenever she turned back around it was Dom’s lovestruck face in front of her and suddenly everything was fine.  His laughing blue eyes were enough to bring her back down from the rafters, pliant and apologetic.

Low-hanging fruit.

Which was probably how Gina happened.

Eighteen months after Teresa, just after the winter had begun to thaw.  Another blonde head to join the first, this one with a nest of curls and her grandmother’s green eyes.  Gina had her father’s nose and her mother’s lips and her aunt’s foolish heart, though they wouldn’t know that for a few more years.  When she was born all either of them could say was how perfect she was.  How like Dom she looked, how easy a time she’d made of being born as though Gina had a thing to do with it.  

For a little while, it was just the four of them.

Dominick, Tessa, Teresa, and Gina.  

Making dinner, playing games.

Making a mess in her mother’s garden.

It’s August when she transplants some of her mother’s mint to the box outside her kitchen window, a few months after Gina’s second birthday.  She’s wrist deep in soil, the tender scent strong in her nose while she worked.  Her grandmother - long dead now, since she was a little girl - still whispered the old phrases in her ear, voice light as a feather and promising trouble in the same thrilling way she had while living.

_Mint on the windowsill in August brings you truths, for better or worse._

She’d been admiring her handiwork when Dom came in - through the back door this time, as though hoping to sneak up on her.  He had been, she realized, when she caught sight of the bottle of wine in one hand and the bouquet of peonies in his other.  The warm afternoon sun was shining through his golden hair, his eyes were blue and teasing, and the depth of her love for him hit her in the chest.  She sighed something deep and painfully sweet while the corner of his mouth quirked up and he looked her up and down.

“Well, never mind,” he told her and she raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Won’t be needing this,” he told her matter-of-factly and set the wine bottle down, pushing it away with an ecstatic glint in his eye.  

“Oh?” she asked playfully.  “And why not?”

“You’re pregnant again.”

She didn’t stop laughing for half an hour.

Two weeks later Dom laughed for about three hours, all the way back from the doctor’s office and all the way through dinner while the girls tried to figure out why their daddy was so happy.  She’d tossed a dinner roll at him from the kitchen, rolling her eyes when he caught it and later accepting his eager kisses with his hands on her hips and his breath against her ear while she did the dishes.

“One more wouldn't be so bad,” he suggested, pinning her against the counter like he dared her to say something about it.  

“I'll remind you of that come March, Dominick Carisi,” she'd told him, coming up on her toes to kiss his chin rather than shooing him away.  “We'll see how you feel about it then, wrestling a newborn away from your girls and trying to explain that it's not a toy.”

He shrugged.  

“I can do that.”

He could, Tessa knew.

One more really wouldn't be so bad.  

Or so she thought, until she'd been in labor for close to twenty-four hours and she was so tired she was closing in on delirious.  She hadn't slept in two days, contractions radiating up her back every time she so much as thought about closing her eyes. It had been rough going enough that the doctor was talking about surgery and Dom was pacing the room like a caged animal.  He was terrified, taking trips to the waiting room every so often to call and check on the girls and convince their parents that everything was fine and they didn't need to come up there.  Tessa was doing great, he insisted.

Tessa was not doing great.  

Tessa was tired.

And in pain.

And scared for the tiny heartbeat she could hear on the monitor.

Tessa was scared for herself.

And maybe only barely conscious at one point because suddenly, just before dawn, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and her grandmother’s voice in her ear.  Not so forgotten after all, even after close to fifteen years since her death.  The smell of something fresh and green saturated her nostrils and she took a deep breath of it, feeling it fill her body with the second wind she'd been needing for hours.  It made her cry when she realized she couldn't place it when it felt like she very much needed to.

Her grandmother would know.

But she was gone now.  

It was only Tessa here, a nurse puttering in the corner while Dom made yet another trip to the hospital’s courtesy phone.  Tessa, exhausted.  Afraid.  Worried for her girls at home, worried for the baby whose face she’d yet to look at on anything other than a blurry sonogram.  Still, the scent lingered in her nose and she continued to breathe it in because it created the illusion that she wasn’t alone.    

Her grandmother’s voice chided.  

_Thyme for courage, my witchy girl._

Thyme.

That’s what she smelled.  A sign from her grandmother, at a weak point she knew she wouldn’t be there for.  The smell of something familiar to keep her going.

Courage.  

She could do that.

Tessa felt the weight of the woman’s love on her shoulders as she sat up, gripped the bed rails and screamed for her husband to get his ass in there and bring the doctor with him.  Her poor nurse scrambled out of the room but was back in two shakes, Dom following close behind and her doctor a few steps after that.  Telling them exactly where they could put their directions to stay still as she twisted and turned and found a position more to her liking.  She settled, finally, and felt the snarl of tension in her back loosen and give way.  Damn doctor didn't know what the hell he was talking about, trying to keep her on her back.  Within a few minutes she was pushing, surrounded by incredulous faces.

Dominick Michael Carisi Jr. was born February 29, 1980.  Just as the sun rose pink and gold over heavy snow clouds and lit up everything it touched.  It filtered through the blinds and touched the baby in her arms, drawing her eyes in awe.  Her son had blond hair like his sisters, a riot of it in messy golden curls plastered to his fragile head.  Pouting pink lips.  Clear blue eyes, like the prettiest July sky she’d ever seen as he stared up at her.  A summer soul born on the tail end of winter, early on a Friday morning on a date that only occurred once every four years.  

_Friday’s child is loving and giving._

“Hello my sunny boy,” she breathed, watching him blink in confusion and start to squawk in protest of the cold air outside her body.  “My sweet, sunny boy.”  

Dom overheard, because of course he did.  It would have taken an act of God to move him from that spot, near enough to his wife and their newborn son that he could hear the sweet nothings whispered into the shell of his ear.  After those quiet moments, with just the three of them and the sunrise, Dominick Carisi Jr. was never known as anything but the nickname his mother had given him at birth… Sonny.

Well, sort of.

But Tessa wasn’t about to correct him.

The secret she shared with her little boy was too perfect.  

All of him was too perfect.  

His sleepy sighs in the middle of the night, his long Italian nose as it burrowed into her neck.  The way he giggled at his father’s silly faces and the way he watched his sisters like they were the most interesting things he’d ever seen.  His hair grew fast and long, an untamable mess of waves and curls that never seemed to stay put in any one direction.  His blue eyes got lighter, his hair darkened a few shades.  Tessa fell a little more in love every day and as much as she loved her daughters, they belonged to their father.  Mom was the law, the buzz kill.  They were every bit Daddy’s girls and Tessa was happy for it, knowing how much Dom loved the chance to be the good cop.

Sonny, though.

Sonny was hers.

No matter the fun and roughhousing with his dad, no matter the desperation to keep up with his sisters, Sonny always came back to her.  For a while Tessa felt like his presence completed their family.  They were all happy, healthy.  Whole.  What in the entire world could the Carisi family be missing?

Until the next spring, a month after Sonny’s first birthday.

He was toddling around the front yard, bundled from head to toe while he tried to help his sisters make snowballs, when Tessa felt it.

Flutters.  

Low, two or three inches past her navel.  

A sign that was sure enough after carrying three children.  Sure enough to make her do some emergency math in her head, even as she jumped to pull Sonny back to his feet after he slipped on some slush melting into the grass.  Math that revealed… a bit of a gap.  About two and a half months’ worth of a gap since the last time she’d been assured she wasn’t expecting another.  Had she and Dom…?

Of course they had.

Who was she kidding?

And there, in the chilly wind on a gray morning, Tessa considered that maybe they weren’t complete yet after all.

But the last thing she wanted to do was get Dom’s hopes up for nothing so Tessa took herself to the doctor, Sonny in tow. Four days later they returned again, the obstetrician allowing Sonny to play on the floor as he applied cool gel to Tessa’s stomach and listened to the machine crackle and wail while he swept the wand over her stomach.  Back and forth, nothing but the dull white noise and Sonny’s contented giggles to cover the fact that there should have been a heartbeat.  In that moment Tessa refused to examine the fact that she hadn’t felt the flutters in days.

Nor did she examine the fact that tears were pricking her eyes as her doctor referred her for additional tests.

Tessa hadn’t know just how much she wanted this baby until she was told that she may have lost it already. And that evening, when their other three were in bed for the night, Tessa told her husband what had happened.  She tried for indifferent, tried for nonchalant acceptance of the fact that she may have lost a child.  It didn’t work.  She collapsed at the first glance of Dom’s fingers on her shoulder, crumbled at the solid weight of his arm around her middle. The sobs came on heavy but the tempest of Tessa’s emotions had never scared Dom off in the twenty years they’d known each other and it didn’t scare him now.  Instead he held her close, whispered in her ear.

Dominick told her what she needed to hear.

He promised her that everything was going to be alright, that no matter what happened they still had their family.

No matter what happened, she wasn’t a failure.

This wasn’t her fault.

He told her he loved her, even as his long fingers dipped under her shirt to feel the soft swell of flesh where she’d carried all their other children to term.  The placement felt like an indictment even as he promised her she would always have him.  Him and their three monsters, running her ragged until she screamed and pulled her hair out.

It was enough, Tessa told herself as they settled into bed and Dom pulled her close.  She listened to the soft drumming of his heartbeat as he drifted off to sleep and tried to convince herself that God had a plan, that He wouldn’t let her hope only to let her hurt if this baby never came to be.

Except around three in the morning, God wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t a comfort, wasn’t a friend.

At three in the morning Tessa heard her grandmother’s voice in her ear again, forcing her from bed.  

 _Pink carnation,_ the long-gone woman’s voice urged.   _Yellow chrysanthemum._

Tessa, in snow boots and a thin nightgown, pulled the blooms from her garden with shivering fingers numb from cold.  

Sage for life.

Snowdrop for hope.

Witch hazel to bind.

Tessa bound them all together with a lock of her own hair and buried them beneath her grandmother’s white rosebush, splashed with milk for growth.  

She hadn’t cast a spell in fifteen years but here she was, going through the steps with hardly a pause.  Tessa hadn’t been _witchy girl_ since her grandmother died but apparently the skills had never left her.  They were just as much a part of her as her grandmother was, as all her children were.  When she felt that familiar magic flare up under her touch Tessa realized that she’d been denying something vital about herself in the everyday chaos of her life.

Tessa was magic.

Tessa was a witch.

Like her grandmother, and her grandmother before her.

Tessa Renee Carisi, just like her children and her grandchildren would be after her, was made of stronger stuff.  

The knowledge of that settled into her bones, seeped in deep while she toed off her boots and crawled back into bed with her husband.  She slept without another tear, without another lingering doubt as to her own worth as she slipped under Dom’s arm and pulled the heavy blanket up to her chin.

Tessa was a witch.

Maybe not the only one in the house, she realized the next morning.

Sonny woke early, before six, and demanded to be carried into his parents’ bed.  Tessa settled back into the bed, held her son close, and without a pause the boy reached down and rubbed her belly, babble spilling from his lips with a smile.  She didn’t know what he said, didn’t know what he meant, but knew that her skin felt tingly and warm long after he’d stopped touching her and it was with the first flutter a few minutes later that Tessa considered she shared more with her son than just an affectionate nickname and stubborn nature.

Maybe Sonny was magic, too.

As they waited for the specialist appointment Tessa watched her stomach swell and the flutters grow stronger, sparking new hope. Hope that was more for her husband than it was for her, because Tessa already knew.  Knew about the bundle of flowers beneath the rose bush, knew about the lingering enchantment of her infant son’s touch.  Throughout the specialist appointment Dominick squeezed her hand, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes when the specialist located a heartbeat and the saw the image of their tiny little baby on screen.  A heartbeat that was loud and strong, seemingly beating in defiance of fate rather than because of it.

On the 29th of September, exactly eighteen months after Sonny made his way into the world, the most beautiful little girl followed.  Bella was fierce and headstrong and refused to be born the way her siblings before her, demanding instead a surgical removal that was still the most perfect thing Tessa had experienced because it brought her daughter into the world.

“My Bella,” Dominick cooed at the swaddled newborn while she screamed, shrill and red-faced and utterly outraged at the indignity of being held so close.

As Tessa watched her children crowd around their newest sibling it felt as though a weight had lifted from Tessa’s shoulders.  The last puzzle piece had settled into place, the final splash of color to complete the masterpiece, and Tessa watched all her children through a blur of tears.

Complete, she thought.

They were complete.

“No more,” she later joked to her husband, who nodded his head in agreement.

“No more.”

 

**...**

 

Sonny grew up calm and happy, without a mischievous bone in his body.  Her son was always the peacemaker, always the referee even when it meant catching the brunt of all his sisters’ anger at each other.  He never ran and tattled, never resented the overwhelmingly female presence in his life.  Sonny was smart in a way his parents weren’t, latching onto schoolwork with zeal while Teresa and Gina chased boys and Bella picked fights on the playground.

Meanwhile, Tessa stayed busy.

She never forgot the night of terrible fear years ago, when she’d been so sure Bella would never come to be.  Nor had she forgotten the broken down bouquet in her garden that was half of her salvation so it was a side of herself that Tessa embraced.  She whispered words over her precious plants and let the magic in her fingertips seep out as she made soaps and lotions and foods and vials of oil to spread on skin so that the spells could sink in and become part of the body itself.  

At first it was just for her… then her mother, to help the pain in her bad knee.  Then her mother’s friends, then the lady who ran the good beauty shop in town.  Within a year Tessa had a reputation.  A respectable one - the nice lady who made handmade things from her house, sold them for cheap because times were hard.  At least that’s what was said out loud.  There may have been whispers about more, though.  Because Tessa was that “odd Maggie Conner’s granddaughter” and everyone well remembered the woman who’d cursed a priest in the middle of mass because he dared preach against witchcraft.

Of course, the rumors that spread after?

About the man’s hair falling out, that awful rash?

Rumors, of course.

But her grandmother never attended mass again and the priest left six months later.

Tessa didn’t think her craft was ungodly at all, and those were the lessons she passed on to the only child of hers who’d shown even a passing interest in what she did for a living - Sonny.  God created them, God gave them the gifts they had, and so there was not a thing wrong with using those gifts so long as they were in service.  

“Always to help,” she told her son as she packaged a small blue vile to take the swelling off old widow Herman’s arthritis.  “Never to hurt.”

“Got it,” Sonny told her and stirred a concoction she’d developed for a broken heart.  The college girl down the street couldn’t seem to get over the breakup and her mother was worried sick so the two of them sat all Sunday afternoon and built this little dram from scratch, Sonny humming under his breath while Tessa worked.

Tessa was magic.

So was Sonny.

Sonny was magic in a way that Tessa sometimes thought she wasn’t.  Her natural inclination was magnified in her son, more of an instinct than hers ever was.  He found and added correct ingredients without ever knowing what they were - the plants speaking to him without ever having known their language.  While Tessa was good, she’d had to learn.  Sonny was born to it.  His magic was effortless and potent and even when he made mistakes Tessa was quick to tell him that they were made this way - that they were meant to do this work.

God doesn’t make mistakes, and her son was magic because God wanted it that way.

It was a conviction she clung to the night of Teresa’s high school graduation party, when the house was full of people and as the most responsible of their children Sonny had been put in charge of refilling drinks from the massive kegs of beer in their basement.  His service had started to get slower before he disappeared and Tessa went down to find him sitting in the corner of the basement, redfaced and glassy-eyed with a few empty cups next to him on the ground.  Drunker than a sailor on shore leave, if the slur in his voice was any indication.  She gazed on him lovingly, amused that this happened to be the first time that fifteen-year-old Sonny had done something even remotely rebellious.

“Enjoying yourself down here?” she asked jokingly when his gaze jerked up to meet hers.  His eyes were bright blue against the bloodshot whites and he looked afraid for a second.  “Don’t let your dad catch you.  He’ll make you drink until you’re sick.”

“I’m already sick.”

Tessa laughed.  

“You just think you’re sick now.  Wait until tomorrow.”

“Ma… I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” she said and something uncomfortable jumped in her chest because it hadn’t occurred to her until just that second that her son may have been drinking for a reason other than teenage rebellion.  “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to be a priest anymore.”

Tessa barked a laugh, relief flooding her bloodstream.  

“Okay,” she said and claimed a seat on the floor next to her teenaged son.  “Honey, you don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be.  No one’s going to hold you to something you said you wanted when you were eleven.  You’ve got years to figure that kind of thing out still.”

“I want to be a cop,” he told her matter-of-factly and she smiled.  

“Your heart might be a little tender for that, baby,” she says fondly with a firm pat on his knee.  “But alright, whatever you want.”

“I can’t be a priest,” he swears, this time with the utmost conviction, and Tessa’s inner bells are going off now.  “I _can’t do it_.”

“Baby, no one is saying you have to.”  She scoots a little farther away, just far enough so that she can turn and face him.  His eyes turn down, guilty.  “Sonny, where is all this coming from?  Is it because Teresa’s moving out next week?  Because you know she’s just moving to-”

“I like guys, Ma.”

She stops, stunned.

“I- what?”

Something in her awareness shifts and the world goes a little sideways in that moment, blood roars in her ears and she feels a little dizzy.

“I like guys.  I mean, I like girls too.  But I definitely like guys and the Bible says I’m not supposed to.  That I’m going to Hell,” he groans and he tilts his head back and for the first time Tessa notices that his eyes are glassy from tears, not from the alcohol in his system.  “I don’t want to go to Hell and I don’t want to be a priest if I have to tell other people that they’re going to Hell too.”

“Sonny,” she manages to grind out even while this unnamed unease slithers up and down her neck, “You’re not going to hell.  I promise you you’re not.”

God doesn’t make mistakes.

“The Bible says I am.”

“Well, that book- I mean, it was written so many years ago…” she says lamely as she scrabbles for a better answer.  That maybe it’s temporary, maybe he just hasn’t met the right girl.  All words that fall flat at the agony in her son’s eyes - the misery she’d never seen before, that she knew wouldn’t be there unless he’d already explored all those things himself  and kept coming back to the truth.

Her son was…

Her son was her son.  

God doesn’t make mistakes.

“It doesn’t matter who you love, Sonny,” she says finally and reaches for his hand.  The buzzing fades, just for a minute.  “So long as you’re a good person, so long as that love is used to help and not to hurt, I think God will understand.”

It was the best she could do, and Sonny seemed to know it too.

He offered her a goofy, wide smile that showed all of his teeth and for a moment she thinks she’s going to cry but then he hiccups - this loud, ghastly thing that echoes in the dank basement -  and just like that the tension is broken.  Instead of crying, instead of dealing with doubts and the hovering threat of eternal damnation, the two of them just laugh.  Until they’re both hiccupping and threatening to collapse onto the hard concrete floor.  

Half an hour later, when Tessa has had two more beers and her head is starting to spin, they emerge from the basement and she faces the rest of the party with her son’s secret weighing on her shoulders even as she does her best to fit it into everything else she knows about him.  It doesn’t work.  Not yet, not when it was so new and she’s now so aware of how Sonny’s gaze lingers a little longer on one of Teresa’s male friends at the party.  Then he finds her later and smiles so wide and offers to fill up her cup again and get her another piece of cake and everything else just melts away.

Sonny is her son.

She loves him with everything in her and to hell with what anyone else might have to say about it.

Whoever Sonny brings home, she thinks, Tessa will love them.  Unconditionally, because her son is kind and good and smart.  He would bring home someone who treated him well, who loved his family and wanted to start one of their own.  He would bring home someone who understood what it meant to be a Carisi - family before everything else, no matter what.  She would treat Dom with kindness and Tessa with deference and a respectful amount of fear that clearly communicated where Tessa was situated in the food chain.

 _Or ‘he’,_ she corrects even as that same shift filters through her blood and her world tilts a little sideways.

 

**…**

 

She thinks she means it, for years and years.  

As Sonny brings home partners that practically fall at her feet in deference and helpful doting, all of them with stars in their eyes over her son.  Any one of them would have been suitable, she thinks, but none stick.  Whereas Tessa had found the love of her life in the first boy she’d ever kissed, her son was fickle.  At his twenty-fifth birthday she jokingly offers a cologne sweetened with pheromones.  At his thirtieth a love potion, which he rolls eyes at and empties down the sink.

“Ma, you know those don’t work the way everyone thinks they do,” he tells her, “And even if they did, I can make my own with someone particular in mind.  Without something of theirs it’s just generic and I don’t really want some stranger on the job to fall in love with me outta nowhere.”

She scoffs but knows he’s right.

Her Sonny, so smart.

Sonny is magic too, even if he forgets it.

None of the faces that he brings over the ferry show up more than four times.  Four times exactly, and Tessa counts.  All of them meet Tessa’s standards for someone who _fits_ with them but that doesn’t matter to her son, apparently, because there’s only one face that shows up for a fifth visit.  And then a sixth, and then a seventh.  It’s a face that Tessa expected to see only once, and now he was sitting at her table texting with one hand and holding Sonny’s with the other and it’s all she can do not to throw garlic in his wine.  Out of all the people she expected Sonny to fall in love with, she never expected him.  

And of course she loves her son, and supports him and his… and who he wants to date, but all her good intentions go out the window when she meets him.  Inexplicably, Tessa only feels simmering resentment for his man.

Rafael Barba, Assistant District Attorney for Manhattan and the man she just heard her son refer to as “the love of his life”.  

The man who laughed with Dominick but rolled his eyes at Sonny.

The man who was polite with Tessa but a far cry from deferential, who spared her daughters very few words other than those of greeting and those of farewell even as Sonny vibrates eagerly in expectation for them to all get along like family.  Tessa could see already that it wouldn’t happen, that Rafael Barba would never be the type to fit in with their family no matter how much Sonny seemed to like him.  It was possible Rafael already knew it himself if his demeanor was anything to go by but perhaps he still needed a… push.  

Tessa was magic.

Rafael would never know what hit him.


	2. Sonny Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa has plans... and Sonny interferes in every single one of them, until finally something has to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to both the beauty and the brains of the OT3 - our fabulous Robin Hood, who acted as a beta for this story (which for this chapter was hell because I couldn't decide what tense I was in). 
> 
> Tobeconspicuous and I have agreed that all credit goes to her, and all ridiculousness goes to us.
> 
> Thanks for reading, dear people. We appreciate you all. <3

 

Rafael Barba was nothing that Tessa ever wanted from a son-in-law. 

The man was rude and arrogant, a side effect of his profession Dom had chuckled to her. Her traitor husband seemed to like Rafael well enough, happy to discuss high-end liquor and grumble about politics.  But Dom was easy - easy to like, easy to distract - and didn’t see what Tessa did.  Rafael was a decade older than Sonny and refused to even go near Tessa’s grandchildren.  There was almost no chance he wanted some of his own, and the idea of Sonny never having his own children nearly brought her to tears - even as she knew some kind of agreement must have been reached or Rafael wouldn’t be there.

Still.

Not family-oriented.

Rafael Barba’s greatest sin in Tessa Carisi’s eyes, though, was the fact he didn’t seem to be afraid of her. All her other potential sons-in-law cowered under her gaze and flattered her constantly.  _ Mrs. Carisi is the best cook, Mrs. Carisi you have the most beautiful home, Mrs. Carisi my mother talks about you all the time. _  Not Rafael though — he met her word for word and occasionally sounded genuine while doing so.  He’d rather quip at her with a smirk than be genuine for even a second, which only ever made her feel like there’s something he must be hiding - something that would make him undeserving of Sonny’s affections, something that would cement this picture of him she held her head.

Tessa didn’t like secrets.

Tessa had a cure for them too, in fact.

Her grandmother's voice sang to her, telling her to be cautious of her own reasons, to not be selfish. To rise above her vindictive nature and be a better person.  For once in her life she ignored the voice of reason, even as she delighted in hearing her grandmother’s voice, and decided that she will have to test Rafael, to ensure he is worthy of her boy.  Worthy of her sweet, kind, good son who was always wrapped in sunlight and who was more magic than even Tessa.

As she gathered the ingredients to make a simple potion she ignored the clenching in her gut.  Had she thought to slow down she might have recognized it for what it was.  Her nature, crying out for her to be prudent.  To be kind.  To help, and not to hurt.  Instead she ignored the sick careening of her stomach and rooted around in her cabinets above the simmering Sunday dinner on the stove and tried to pretend the nausea was excitement instead of what it was:

A warning of things to come.

 

**…**

 

Sunday dinner with the entire family was a rarity with four grown children, so when the family actually came together it was always an event at the Carisi household. After church Sonny and Tessa would head straight to the kitchen and begin preparing food - whatever caught their fancy that day, but usually Italian because Dom’s mother would have risen from the grave to put the evil eye on her had something as generic as pot roast graced their table on the Sabbath. From scratch Sonny would make pasta while Tessa would make  _ bracciole _ , and together they would make a rich sauce. They would listen and laugh at the girls as they squabbled over who got to make the salad, set the table, and who would end up cleaning up afterwards.

On this particular Sunday Rafael Barba decided to stop by, after church of course because he wasn’t at all religious himself - as he had said so himself at the first offer to join them at the Carisi pew on Sunday morning.  An honor not many significant others had been extended, Tessa failed to mention as Rafael refused Dom’s offer.  Yet another strike against him, not that Tessa was keeping track.  

Much.

As Teresa dished out the food she added a little something extra into Rafael’s lunch… just a bit of olive oil in a suspension with the truth serum she’d prepared beforehand.  Not enough for him to sweat and reveal his life story, but enough for him to loosen up.  For those truths to slide from his tongue a little easier if Tessa posed the right questions.

“How was your morning Rafael?” Bella asked, always eager to make her brother’s partner feel comfortable.  For a feisty child Bella had never shown Rafael anything but kindness and welcome, seemingly ignorant to all the ways Rafael held himself apart from the rest of them.  

“I always enjoy sleeping in on a Sunday,” Rafael replied and sounded as cocky as always. “No matter how much I try I’m never able to convince your brother to sleep in with me.  Either I’m not trying hard enough or you’ve trained him incredibly well.”

Teresa grinned as her brothers face turned red. “Oh? How often do you convince my brother to stay in bed with you?”

Rafael smirks.  “When’s the last time he missed Mass?”

The rest of Sonny’s siblings laughed and needled him but Tessa stayed silent, watching with pleasure as he ate with gusto.  Rafael was an eater and usually she tried to pretend she didn’t like that about him but today she could be happy about it, offering seconds and preening when he accepted.  She fixed him with a warm smile and complimented his jacket and insisted that Rafael put on some weight, the stress was making him thin.  Rafael seemed to appreciate the bit of attention and Sonny looked at her with a smile that went all the way up to his eyes.

“So Rafael,” she said as Gina clears the dinner plates, “You’ve never told us much about you.”

He tensed for less than a second - the serum, doing its work.

“What do you want to know?” he replied as he settled back in his chair, Sonny’s arm around his shoulders.  

“What’s your birthday?” she asked, choosing an easy warm-up question.  “We have a family calendar for birthdays and I don’t think we’ve added yours just yet.”

“October twenty-fourth,” he said without a hesitation.  “I’ll be forty-seven this year.”

“Sonny’s gonna be a trophy husband,” Teresa commented and Tessa ignored that because no one was discussing marriage here, thank you very much.

“Damn right I am,” Sonny said, “I’m a catch.”

“Sonny, language.”

“Sorry, Ma.”

“Teresa’s just jealous,” Bella said over the edge of her glass.  “She’s been trying to get in somebody’s trophy case for twenty years.”

Teresa looked up, incensed.

“Just because  _ you  _ don’t have standards-”

“Girls,” Dom interrupted, “Behave, we have company.”

“I apologize, Rafael,” Tessa said with a smile, “My brood can get out of hand.  I’m sure you know - you have siblings, of course.”

“No, actually,” Rafael corrected, folding his napkin and setting it on the table.  “I’m an only child.”

“Were you that terrible?” Dom asked playfully and Rafael chuckled.

“Probably but that wasn’t the reason,” he said, “My mother is very career-oriented and was afraid of getting stuck at home and not being able to go through with her plans to start a charter school.  Which she now has, by the way.”

Tessa nodded and caught Sonny’s expression out of the corner of her eye.  Surprised, happily.  Maybe Rafael didn’t open up much to Sonny either and this was the first time he was hearing about how Rafael came from a home that valued career over children.  

“She must be very smart, Rafael.  Especially as brilliant as you are,” she offered and Rafael smiled a little in satisfaction.  “I’m sure she must be looking forward to grandchildren now, closing in on retirement.”

“Ma!”

“No, Sonny, it’s fine,” Rafael insisted and now Sonny whirled around to look at him in surprise, expression turning suspicious for the first time.  “Actually, she’s never mentioned grandchildren to me specifically - probably for all the obvious reasons, given her son is attracted to men, and probably for some that are specific to her.  Not the least of which is probably a lack of conviction that her son is capable of parenting.”

The table was wickedly silent.

It was the frankest answer he’d ever given them, typically trying to hedge away personal information with vague self-deprecation and quips.

“Rafael, you don’t have to explain-” Dom started kindly but Rafael shook his head. 

“I promise, it’s fine-”

“No, Raf, you really don’t,” Sonny said, agreeing with his father, and for the first time cut his eyes at his mother.  Tessa schooled her expression into one of innocence that only made his eyes pinch further.  “Hey Pops, you’re a teacher.  You and Mrs. Barba would probably get along great.  Raf, he taught ninth grade history for frigging ever.  Dad, you have to tell Rafael about that time you found Tommy’s history book stuffed with joints.”

“Hey!” Tommy cried indignantly, “That was ages ago!  And I needed a bookmark.”

The conversation moved swiftly onward and Tessa didn’t mind.  Mostly because she was sure her spell was working fine and she didn’t want Sonny’s added scrutiny.  Rafael would always volunteer to help wash dishes and today she’d let him because the rest of them would be playing with Tessa’s granddaughter, Izzy, in the front room while the football game was on.  So she was happy to stay quiet while Dom regaled them all with stories from teaching high school and his plans to never retire as long as he could drive himself to work.

It took another hour but suddenly Rafael was in her kitchen, offering to help her with the dishes.

“Please,” she said kindly, “I wouldn’t mind the company at all.”

Rafael rolled up his sleeves and stood at the sink next to her, tucking into the sink full of soapy water while she grabbed a towel and dried.  It was an oddly companionable silence for a bit, which made Tessa pause for only a moment before she spoke up and banished it from the room.

“Be careful not to splash any of this on your jacket,” she warned gently.  

“I have a terrific dry cleaner.  I’m not worried.”

“Still, you have to take care of your things.  Not everyone can have such nice clothes,” she pointed out and it wasn’t unkind but clothing was never something Tessa had ever cared about for a day in her life so it did ring hollow.  

“The clothes aren’t important to me so much as they are a status symbol,” Rafael offered mildly, without a pause.  “I grew up very poor in a rough part of the Bronx and I was already small for my age, so between that and constantly wearing out of fashion hand-me-downs I was an easy target.”  

“Kids can be terrible.”

“And are, regularly.  My only defense was my mouth,” he chuckled and handed her another plate.  “I told myself that one day, when I was out of there and someone important, I would never dress like that again.  I would always look my best.”

“And you do,” Tessa assured him because the truth serum worked more smoothly when eased by truths going in as well as out.  “I’ve never seen a hair out of place on you, Rafael.”

“It’s all just armor,” he telled her.  “A way for me to hold myself apart from everyone.  To keep myself safe.”

That wrenching in her gut was back.

_ Don’t do this,  _ her grandmother warned but she steamed ahead anyway.

“What’s next for you?” Tessa asked.  “Surely you don’t want to be a prosecutor forever.”

“I used to.  Not so much anymore,” he replied and scrubbed at a persistent stain on a fork.  “I like the job, or at least I used to.  But now I’m stagnant and I hate the thought of not going any further when I see how well Sonny is doing.”

_ Ah-ha _ , she thought.

Rafael was jealous of her son’s success.

“And his success isn’t enough for you?” she asked pointedly.

“No, it’s not that.  It’s that Sonny inspires me to be better and I’m not sure where to go.  My grandmother wanted me to be a judge.”

“That sounds like a promotion.”

“It is.  One that requires an election, which I have no chance of winning.”

“Why not?”

“I’m brash and rude and have no use for politics,” he said easily and handed over the offending fork at last. “I’ve made too many enemies and pissed off too many people in power to stand a chance at attaining that kind of office, even if I do truly believe that it’s a position where I can serve a lot of good.”

“You do seem like you’re impartial.”

_ In a lot of ways _ , she mused.  

Particularly to the obvious affection Sonny seemed to shower on him at every given opportunity.

“Less than you’d think, actually.”  He stopped, looks out the window with a wistful expression.  “She was always so proud of me.  Not for my conviction rate, not for all the status symbols I accrued.”

“Your grandmother?”

Rafael nodded.

Her grandmother’s voice again.

_ You’re wrong, my witchy girl. _

“She was just proud of me for trying my best, for realizing my potential,” he said.  “Sometimes I think I’m disappointing her by not trying for the bench-”

“Rafael!” Sonny cried, stepping into the kitchen with a glass in hand and hurrying to his partner’s side.  “Hey, here you go.  Dad got a new bottle of scotch and said you had to try it.  Interesting basenote, or something like that.”

Rafael handed the last drinking glass to Tessa and dried his hands before accepting the drink.  Tessa didn’t even have to strain to smell the chamomile mixed in with the liquor and she cut her gaze at Sonny, who stared right back with his shoulders squared in defiance.

Chamomile broke spells.

Any spell, all the time.

Rafael swirled the drink and took a sip, considering the taste before grimacing.  

“That’s terrible.  Tell him he’ll have to enjoy this one on his own.”

“Yeah, I will.  Hey, you about ready to go?”

“Don’t be rude, Sonny,” Tessa argued.  “Rafael is clearly having a nice afternoon with us.  Aren’t you, Rafael?”

He stared at her, confused for a second until he cleared his throat and looked mildly embarrassed as he realized just how much he’d managed to spill to her in such a short time.

“Actually, maybe it’s better I go,” he said slowly, emptying the rest of the glass into the sink and setting it down.  “Court tomorrow.”

Tessa really doubted it.

Rafael just wanted to leave.

The spell was broken.

“I understand,” she said.  “You two have a safe drive back, okay?  If you leave now you’ll beat all the Sunday evening traffic.”

“Yeah of course.  Raf, go tell everyone bye and I’ll meet you in the car,” Sonny said affectionately and Rafael nodded, dazed and compliant while the chamomile worked to clear her concoction from his system.  When he was gone, Sonny turned back to her, eyes pointed and mouth stern.

“Yes, son of mine?”

“I know what you’re doing, Ma.”

“The dishes?  That’s pretty obvious.  What kind of detective are you?”

“Leave him alone,” he warned, rolling his eyes.  “When Raf wants to open up he he will.  Don’t force it.”

“I wasn’t forcing anything.”

“Please, like I can’t smell the mint coming out of his pores now.”

“Maybe it’s his face wash.  I can make him something better if you want.”

“Ma.”

“Sonny.”

“Stop it, alright?” he asked and pressed a kiss to her temple.  “I’ll see you later.  Don’t get into any trouble.”

Her?

Never.

“Be safe,” she said to his retreating back and was met with only a wave in return. 

 

**…**

 

Tessa had never had a head for fashion, but her daughter Teresa most certainly did and the one thing her eldest always commented on was the fact that Rafael Barba was always impeccably dressed. Tessa found it to be vain and vapid, even knowing now how Rafael used those pieces as armor - especially, because she’d already repressed that knowledge. She loathed his coordinating colors, his expertly chosen socks with matching suspenders and pocket squares. All of it did Tessa’s head in.  Sometimes she got a headache just trying to visually sort all his contrasting patterns.

All the same, it meant something to him.

Just like it seemed to mean something to her son, who admired his partner’s fashion sense and liked to comment on it even when the man himself wasn’t in the room.  It was that appreciation that she considered one morning, making an anti-wrinkle face cream for her older sister.  It was that appreciation that brought to mind her second stroke of genius.

Cackling at her own cleverness as she worked, Tessa ground milk thistle, fennel and turmeric into a paste and then burned it. Slow at first, until the foliage curled before flashing it fire-hot and watching it disintegrate.  Collecting the ashes in her palm she carefully whispered to them before blowing and letting the ashes scatter to the wind. She mentally hastened them on their journey to her intended target.

The spell is slow acting but effective, causing colors to dull and become more confusing.  A suitable sentence for a man who likes color to make a splash.  It was… playful, she told herself.  Just a prank, just poking a little fun.  She held onto that for a long time, until the next time the two of them come around.  Another Sunday dinner, and when the two of them walked in the door she saw that his choices were a little less outlandish, a little more… reserved. Tessa’s victory was short lived, however, when Teresa commented on Rafael’s muted tones.

“You’re looking relatively plain today Rafael,” she said and it didn’t take being Teresa’s mother to hear the disapproval in her tone.  “Rough week?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was required to dress for dinner.  I’m sure I have something in traffic cone orange in the car if you don’t mind waiting,” he snarked but Tessa could see the momentary doubt, the fleeting confused glances at he looked at his wardrobe and wondered what everyone else could see that he couldn’t.

Later she heard Rafael talking to Sonny in a low murmur, mentioning words like  _ doctor _ and  _ something is really wrong _ .  

“No it’s not,” Sonny insisted.  “Listen, you’re just tired.  Let me make you that special tea I was telling you about and you’ll sleep like the dead.  When you wake up I bet you everything will be fine.”

“Sonny, I’m not that tired-”

“Raf.  Trust me, okay?”

Tessa knew exactly what tea Sonny was talking about.  She’d taught him the recipe herself.  Something to induce a deep sleep, deep enough that her spell would go dormant and never start up again when Rafael woke.  It would have been a brilliant solution, had Tessa not thrown in some extra fennel for longevity.  

Then again, Tessa really shouldn’t have underestimated her son.

Tessa’s amusement at Rafael’s muted wardrobe was short lived, The next time she saw the prosecutor he looked a little brighter and stood a little taller. And Sonny, her beautiful boy, stood proudly alongside him.  Chin up, happily wearing something muted so Rafael stood out even more when they were together.  Meeting her gaze head on, mouth quirked up in a cocky grin that reminded her far too much of his father.  

_ Two for me _ , he seemed to say.  

Tessa had never once backed down from a challenge.

 

**…**

 

Unlike her loving husband, Tessa loved visiting the city of Manhattan.

She loved the bustling atmosphere, taking in a Broadway show, getting some expensive and hideous hat to smarten up the plain dresses she wore to mass.  Most of all she loved visiting her son. Especially since he moved into a larger apartment with a view over the city.  It was more extravagant than she would have ever imagined for her son but he’d earned it, working so hard and saving so well for his entire life.  He may never have gotten his beloved Mustang but he was making up for it now, living the high life in the city like no Carisi before him ever had.  

Sonny had told her the upgrade was to celebrate passing the bar.

It was true, she thought.

Mostly.

Partly it was because he wanted to impress his older partner, who probably viewed something like this as necessary rather than a grand treat.

Well, this was Sonny’s to enjoy.

Rafael could enjoy it from afar.

One afternoon while visiting him, Tessa placed her grandmother's black obsidian disk on one of Sonny’s shelves. It was small, nondescript.  It blended in perfectly with the dark wood of the bookshelf and even when looked right at, she might not have ever noticed it was there if she hadn’t put it there herself.  She’d spelled it to keep Rafael out of the apartment. Everytime Rafael got to the door of Sonny’s apartment, he’d forget what he needed, or a force would direct him elsewhere.  Fairly innocent, really.  No harm done.

Or so she told herself.

The visit continues without a hitch, Sonny taking them out to lunch and seeing them out to the car with warm hugs and promises to come visit sometime soon.  When their newest case wrapped up, he swore, as he nagged his father to lay off the red meat and beer and told his mother to behave.  She should have been insulted, really, but she just smiled and patted his cheek and told him to be safe and call his sisters more because they were getting their feelings hurt.

The black disc sat on that shelf for one, single, solitary week.

It probably would have been longer had she not given birth to the single smartest person she knew.

Sonny showed up early on a Friday morning, citing a day off and a desire to do the yard while his father was at work and not able to argue with him about it.  Tessa let him in the door with a wide smile and a big hug that still, at just over sixty years old, warmed her chest the way it did when he was a toddler and wobbling his way to her across the living room floor.

“Hi, Ma,” Sonny said and she can hear the smile in his voice before he leans down and kisses her cheek.

Tessa smiles wide and opens the door, ushering him inside.  

“Hello son of mine.  Don’t you have anything better to do on your day off?” she chides.  “You should be relaxing, catching up on sleep.”

“Gotta take care of things on my day off, you know that.”

“What things?”

He reached into his pocket, pulls out a familiar black disc and pushes it into his mother’s hand.  It was warm from being in his pocket and she turned it over in her hand, frowning.  Her spell fizzled on the bottom of it, neutralized.  Thoroughly, she noted with a scowl.  The field had been salted and burned, never to grow again.  She’d never be able to put another spell on its surface.

“It took me a while to catch on Ma,” Sonny chuckled. “Nice try, but I found it in the end. Might have taken me a couple of days and a locator spell but I got there.”

Tessa forced a laugh to hide her disappointment, and she reached out and cupped her son’s cheek with her hand. “I’m glad you found it.  You need to keep your skills sharp, just in case.”

“You would have gotten away with it for a while, probably, but there’s something you didn’t think about when you put it there.”

“Oh?” she asked, arching a brow.  “And what’s that?”

He grinned.

“Rafael lives there too.”  

Her mouth soured.

“Couldn’t figure out why he kept wanting to sleep in his old apartment as soon as he reached the door of our new one, when we just moved in.”  He grinned.  “This gonna end anytime soon, Ma?”

She put a little pressure on the depleted obsidian and it crumbled in her hand, falling to her new carpet and undoubtedly staining it.

“I don’t know what you mean, baby,” she said distractedly and then looked up at him again, beaming.  “Come on, let’s feed you.  You’re gonna pass out if you try to do the lawn on an empty stomach.”

 

**…**

 

Thanksgiving came and went, as did Christmas and the new year.

Rafael was there for all of it.

Participating, even, finding gifts for the entire Carisi family that delighted all of them.  Even Tessa, begrudgingly as she twirled the rose quartz necklace in her hands.  She wore it every day for months, toying with it every time she so much as thought about her son… and Rafael, it seemed.  An occurrence that was completely nonsensical to her until she happened to catch a glimmer of a spell on the stone in the mirror.  Something faintly red and burnt orange, resting in a sheen over her perfectly formed pink moon.  

A spell.

A spell expertly hidden by no one other than her son, enchanting the piece of jewelry to influence her feelings.  To forever link Rafael and Sonny in her mind, to love them the same.  She felt bile rise up in her throat at the trickery, ripping the necklace off and throwing it down the drain with a sneer.  Even if the voice of her grandmother whispered at the hypocrisy, the necklace was a step too far.  Her feelings for Rafael were her own, not to be toyed with.  Even by a son she loved more than she would ever love herself.

The necklace plagued her for a long time, sending her into fits of temper every time she thought of it.  

She told herself it’s because she was tricked.

Really, deep down, it’s because she knew what it meant.

A meaning that she suppressed with manic glee as Easter approached and she made her plans, inviting friends and family alike.  Made room in her house, at her table, for the dozens of aunts and uncles and cousins that would be descending upon their home for the day.  Not for a moment did she second guess herself, not through all of her sorting and crushing and burning.  Not as she distilled the oil and rose water until they came together, sweetened with vanilla and gardenia so that its wearer would smell like Tessa’s garden and the sweet baking of her kitchen - smells her son would always associate with home.  

The pause came in Easter mass.

Her grandmother again, telling her to pray.  Telling her to seek guidance because Tessa was taking herself down a path she didn’t need to follow.

She didn’t.

Tessa crossed herself, posed for pictures in her pristine white dress and matching wide-brimmed hat, and didn’t so much as doubt.

She didn’t doubt as she got back to the house and smelled her ham slow roasting in the oven, didn’t doubt as Jeannie Carrick showed up at her front door with a hesitant smile and a pretty floral dress.  Tessa had known Jeannie’s parents for going on thirty years and they were happy to arrange for their daughter to stop by the festivities, knowing how much it would delight Sonny - he’d had such a crush on her when she was younger, and they were just sure she’d like to see him again.

Tessa didn’t disagree.

Instead she brought the girl back to her own bedroom and sprayed some of her homemade perfume on the woman’s wrists and neck, admiring the spill of mahogany tresses over her thin shoulders.  Jeannie had aged beautifully, had grown into her chin and accepted her freckled nose and Tessa didn’t have a doubt in her mind that Sonny would be rendered speechless just by the sight of her, and that was even before he stepped close and smelled Tessa’s attraction spell.

Meanwhile.

Rafael’s drink was peppered with something of his very own - a powdered root of pink larkspur and marigold ground with sugar.  Something sweet that slipped into Rafael’s mimosa with only the slightest discoloration.  A green tint, the blood of the jealousy that it inspired, but no one without a witch’s eyes would see it and Rafael typically drank too fast for anyone to see anything anyway.  She handed it to him first thing in the door and Rafael accepted with a tight smile, looking at the filled house with obvious apprehension.

“Something wrong, Rafael?” she asked pleasantly.  “I’m sure this isn’t your usual type of crowd…”

“No,” he said on a sigh but still snuck a glance at Sonny.  “Thank you for having me, Tessa.”

“My pleasure,” she said and watched as Rafael drank the mimosa in three long drinks, twirling the thin champagne flute between his fingers.  “Enjoy the party now.  Sonny, I think an old friend of yours is wandering around here somewhere.”

It took Sonny a while to find her.  

Tessa spent half the afternoon wondering if she hadn’t made it strong enough but suddenly the two of them ran straight into each other, Sonny reaching out to grab her arms and keep her upright.  Their eyes met and Sonny’s head tilted, his mouth opening.  For a moment Tessa thought they might kiss in the middle of her dining room but then Sonny frowned and said, “Jeannie Carrick?”

“Hey, Sonny,” she said kindly, “It’s been a while.  How are you?”

“Good, I’m good.  Hey, have you seen my mother?  I know she’s running around here somewhere-”

“Sonny.  Who is this?”

Rafael, flushed.  Green eyes wide, mouth severe.

“Hey, Raf, this is-”

“Did I hear you call her Jeannie?”

“Yeah,” the woman offered kindly and extended a hand.  “Jeannie Carrick.  I’m an old school friend of Sonny’s.”

“No, you’re the girl who led him on for months because you wanted his food.”

Sonny balked.

Obviously, dramatically.

As did Jeannie, who had probably long forgotten that part of their history.

“Hey, Raf-”

“No.  What, have you come back to try your luck again?” he asked Jeannie and Tessa ducked behind a doorway in the dining room because she could feel her son’s eyes searching her out.  

Sonny would come to her rescue now, Tessa thought.  He would see how his partner was acting completely unprovoked and Sonny would see now how incompatible they really were.  Sonny, with his kind and welcoming nature, would never be able to handle someone willing to be angry with a stranger over something that happened almost thirty years before.  

“Sorry, Jeannie.  This is my partner, Rafael,” he said and Tessa can hear the strain in his voice.  “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later, alright?  Let me just talk to my guy for a second.”

Tessa’s stomach dropped.

Shouldn’t Rafael be the one getting dismissed?

She peeked around the corner and saw Sonny take Rafael into another room, into the mouth of the hallway that led to his childhood bedroom.  Tessa inched her way closer and heard only snippets of their conversation.  Sonny, asking what’d gotten into him.  Rafael, explaining how it made him feel to see someone who used Sonny so terribly years before.  How much he hated the thought of Sonny having ever been with anyone else, even if it was just kids switching lunches.  

“Raf, what’s the matter with you?” he asked and Tessa can hear the frustration in his voice.  “I swear to God, you were fine this morning.  What’s changed?  All you’ve done is drink-  _ shit _ .”

“No, I drank a mimosa.”

She doesn’t hear anything else and Tessa dared to stick her head into the hallway, finding the two of them resting at the end of it.  Rafael’s back against the wall, Sonny leaning close.  One hand carding fingers through thick brown hair and the other on his hip, Sonny’s mouth at his ear.  Whispering something low, something soft.  And at first Tessa thought it was those same sweet words Dom uses to talk her down but instead she knew it was magic.  She saw Rafael’s hackles come down, watched as his face smoothed into one of calm confusion.  He’d feel week for a few minutes, Tessa knew.  He might be sick later in the night because typically this required an ingested solution and Sonny took the more powerful, more potent shortcut - removing the spell with his voice, with his words.

Sonny was magic.

Sonny was stronger than her.

When it was over she stepped away because she could hear Sonny promising Rafael that he was okay, that no one noticed anything.  Rafael didn’t make a scene, Sonny assured him, but he was about to.

Sonny came back into the dining room, eyes on her and closing in.

Sonny was angry at her, she knew that.  

She even knew she might deserve it, if her grandmother’s voice was to be believed, but she would never have believed Sonny would be mad enough to walk away from Rafael and take his discarded wine glass in hand.  He tapped on it with a butter knife and drew everyone’s attention to him, meeting his mother’s gaze while he plastered on a strained smile and addressed the room.  Speaking of the man who still looked on, dazed, from the mouth of the hallway.  Telling their friends and family about the depth of his love for Rafael.

Telling them of their engagement.

Of their wedding, coming up in October of that year.

Of the fact that Sonny had never been so happy in his life as the moment Rafael had told him “yes”.  

Everyone congratulated him with cheers and applause, toasting the two of them multiple times.  Tessa seemed to levitate through it, not quite on the inside of her body.  Her world shifted sideways for the second time in her life and she was reminded of the hot curl of confusion and denial that had plagued her for months after Sonny’s confession in their basement over twenty years before.  She was so consumed by the memory that she didn’t notice Sonny approaching, not until he was standing in front of her and asking her to look at him.

“When?” Tessa breathed, mind reeling.

“My birthday,” Sonny answered, staring her down.  “He asked me what I wanted for my birthday and it took me weeks but it dawned on me then - the only thing I was missing was him.  The only gift I could ever want was that man as my husband.”

His birthday.

Dominick Michael Carisi, Jr. was born on February 29, 1980.

The sunlight had touched him, pink and gold, and Tessa had spoken his name and that was the only way Sonny was ever known for the rest of his thirty-seven years.  Over Dominick, over “Officer”, over “Detective”.  That day had always belonged to the two of them, just like all her other children’s birthdays.  It was the day they met, the day that bound them together.  The day she knew she’d love them forever, until the last breath left her body and there was nothing left of her but them.  

Not now.

Now it belonged to Rafael.

Their day was gone.

Tessa left the room, doing her best to tamp down the tears in her eyes and the gaping chasm opening up in her chest.

 

**…**

 

That night, Dom laid in bed behind her while she brushed her hair out.  She could still smell the hints of her special perfume on her skin.  It only served to remind her of Rafael’s hateful expression, of Sonny’s pained voice as he ran his fingers through Rafael’s hair and over the back of his neck.  

Her spell didn’t work.

And now she knew why.

Attraction spells didn’t work on someone who was already promised to someone else - someone who was already in love.  

Sonny loved Rafael.

Sonny wanted to marry him.

Rafael Barba would be her son-in-law.

“Why don’t you like him, Tess?” Dom asked her and she realized then that she’d been staring at her reflection for far too long for it to have been considered normal.  “After Teresa’s idiot rich boyfriends, after Gina’s four engagements.  After Tommy’s time in jail.  Why is it Rafael who gets to see the worst of you?”

“Thomas Sullivan has more than seen the worst of me,” she said caustically, thinking of the spell that forced him to vomit every time he so much as brought a drink or a joint to his lips.  

“It’s not the same.  You know that.”

“Butt out, Dominick,” she said and met her own eyes in the mirror again.  “I like Rafael fine.  Sonny is happy and so am I.”

The words tasted bitter in her mouth.

 

**…**

 

Sonny and Rafael celebrate their engagement in June, when the Manhattan summer is just settling in and the nights are still balmy.  

Teresa planned everything, more than happy to share the task with Rafael - Rafael, who acted as though the party is a burden that he’s trying to avoid.  He wanted to work, he said.  He wanted to spend time with Sonny’s boss and do paperwork rather than celebrate the wedding that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives.  Sonny didn’t seem to mind but Tessa did, realizing now in her old age just how special that day was for her - it was the start of everything.  The start of her life, more than her birthday ever was.

She hated him for it.

She hated herself for hating him.

Tessa listened to her children playfully arguing over drinks and food and decorations like it was a grand old time and only ever heard Rafael complain.  She couldn’t help but wonder what it meant, that Rafael would rather complain than celebrate.  Was he having second thoughts?  Was the man so opposed to family that he couldn’t bear to join another?

Maybe she would save him the trouble.

She dressed in her finest for the party, in a flowing golden dress with black lace accents, draped over her thin shoulders to look regal.  It wasn’t an updated piece but it was her favorite and she wore it with confidence, darkening her eyes with makeup and curling her hair.  It used to be a fiery auburn but now it was threaded through with shocks of white and gray, thicker at the temples.  She put golden rings on every finger and dangly earrings on her ears and when Dom jokingly said she looked like a witch tempting kids in with candy she took it as a compliment.

Tessa was magic.

She played the gracious mother of the groom for a while, greeting each guest with handmade gift bags filled with her homemade concoctions.  For love, for better sleep.  For stress relief.  In a show of compassion she gave Sonny’s boss two, as she did for Lucia Barba.  A small-statured woman with a brusque voice and wide brown eyes who looked at Tessa much like her son did - like she wasn’t afraid of her.  

Lucia had no reason to be.

Lucia awarded Sonny the same quick cheek kiss she’d given her biological son and if Tessa felt an ounce of guilt it didn’t bother her there.  This wasn’t about Lucia, she told herself as she showed the woman to her seat and recommended she try the red wine - Dom picked it himself, and he had such a palate for wine.  This was about Rafael and the fact that he couldn’t possibly love Sonny.  Not the way Sonny loved him.  Completely, selflessly.  Without a thought in the world for anything other than seeing Rafael happy.

Her son deserved someone who would feel that way for him and more.

It was with Sonny in mind that she smiled and cried during the toasts, thanking all the guests that had come to show her son and Rafael so much love.  

“I know my son thinks of you all as family,” she said, lifting her glass of champagne.  “And so do I, and so does his father.  Thank you for being here and we hope to see you again in October for the big day.”

Sonny gazed at her in wide-eyed wonder, came to find her for a hug soon after, and thanked her for coming.  Thanked her for being the best mother he could have ever asked for.  

It only convinced her further.

She caught Rafael leaning against a back wall, drink in hand.  Talking with Sonny’s father about some unbearable bit of legal trivia from the ancient Greeks, and Tessa begged her husband to get her a refill.  Rafael tensed around Tessa, choosing to take a long drink rather than look at her.  For a brief moment she wondered what Rafael must think of her - did he find her cloying, needy?  Temperamental?  The perfect mother-in-law archetype that the sitcoms so loved to hate?

“It was a lovely party, Rafael,” she said sweetly.  “You must be proud.”

“It was all Teresa,” he replied and it’s the first streak of humility she’d ever seen from him.  “She’s got an eye for this kind of thing.  I only expressed preferences in the bar.”

“Teresa has talent in anything that involves aesthetics,” she agreed.  

Rafael offered a small smile.

“She does.”

“I tried to raise her to be more mindful of- oh, ow!” Tessa cried, holding her hand to her eye.  “Oh, I think my makeup is smudging.  Rafael, do I have an eyelash in my eye?”

He was obviously taken aback but looked down into her eyes anyway and by then it was too late, Tessa putting all her focus and energy into the trance as she held him rapt in the palm of her hand.  Rafael’s face went slack, his body pliant.  Gemstone eyes open and empty as they held her own.

“Rafael, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he said dully.

“Good,” she whispered and took the man’s face in her hands.  Pulled them closer, until their noses were almost touching.  “Are you afraid, Rafael?”

“No.”

“I want you to be,” she confessed and tried to keep the glee from her voice.  “I want every one of those pesky little fears to creep up on you.  I can see them all, Rafael.  Every one of them.  But I want you to feel them.  Take hold, look them in the eye.  And then I want you to show them to my son.  Can you do that?”

Rafael nodded.

Eyes still empty, unfocused.  

“Good boy,” she said, tapping Rafael’s cheek and reigning her magic back in.  When he came to she made a show of rubbing at her eye and moaning, “Oh, thank you.  I think I got it.  It’s all these ridiculous contacts, Rafael.  We were never supposed to touch our own eyes like this.”

He laughed but it sounded empty.  

She wiped at her eyes for a moment, pretended to touch up her eyeliner while Rafael started to fidget.  He swallowed hard, eyes darting to Sonny across the room as he gestured wildly to his coworker, the young blonde who rolled her eyes affectionately and looked to an older black man for help.  The man shook his head and took another drink from his beer and ignored the both of them.  Tessa realized that she probably should make a point of remembering their names but a guttural groan stopped the thought in its tracks.  

“Sonny’s going to leave me.”

It was barely more than a whisper breathed into the music-laden air and Tessa almost doesn’t hear it.  

“Sonny’s going to realize he’s too good for me,” Rafael continued, “He’s going to realize that I’m bitter and old and cynical and he can do so, so much better than me if only he’d look.”

Tessa stood, stunned. 

“One day he’s going to wake up next to an old man and realize that he’s thrown his life away.  His chance for children, his chance for a life outside of the awful work we do.  One day he’s going to wake up and realize that he doesn’t love me like he thought he did.”

This wasn’t what she expected.

“Rafael-”

“I didn’t realize he felt something for me at all, not for a long time.  I thought it was ass kissing at first, then hero worship.  I never would have dreamed that he would feel this way for me,” Rafael confessed to her.  “Maybe he doesn’t.  Maybe all the admiration got mixed up in his head and now it has nowhere to go.  Maybe he’s only marrying me because he doesn’t know what else to do.”

His breathing sped up, his eyes widened.

He looked at Tessa, stricken.

This wasn’t what Tessa had wanted.

She’d wanted cold feet, wanted doubts.

Wanted Rafael to succumb to the fears he already had about marrying Sonny.

She hadn’t wanted… this.  

“He’s never going to love me like I love him,” he said in a rush, the words spilling from his tongue faster than Tessa could process them.  “He’s the only taste of happiness I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t deserve him.”

He met her gaze, looked heartbroken.

His green eyes shone even in the low light and Tessa wondered what in God’s name she’d done.

“I’m going to lose him,” he breathed and it was so mournful that she could feel her own breath catch.  

This wasn’t what she’d wanted.

“Raf?” Sonny cried, appearing suddenly at her side and nudging her out of the way.  “Raf, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“You’re going to figure it out one day,” Rafael told him, reaching out to hold a hand to Sonny’s chest.  Over his heart.  “You’re going to figure it out one day and I don’t think I’ll survive it.”

“What?  What the hell are you talking about?”

“Sonny-”

“Ma, not right now,” he snapped and cradled Rafael’s head in his hands.  “Raf, talk to me.  What’s going on in that head of yours?  What am I going to figure out?”

“That I don’t deserve you.  That you’re too perfect to have ever looked in my direction and some days I don’t know how I could ever have been so lucky as to wind up in the same room as you.”

The outburst only seemed to worry him more.

“Jesus Christ, Raf, where is this coming from?”

“I’m afraid, Sonny.”

“I know, Raf, but I don’t know why.”  He stepped closer and from the outside it must look like a lover’s embrace.  A tender moment between a couple about to be married, with Tessa looking on.  “Raf, can you look at me?  I need to see those gorgeous eyes, alright?”

He looked up and Sonny bristled.

Went deadly still.

Tessa knew what he saw - the faint sheen of yellow around his irises, something anyone else might have dismissed as a variation of color in Rafael’s eyes.  The two of them, they knew better.  Knew the yellow was a spell that wouldn’t wear off until Rafael had confessed every fear he’d ever had.  Until he was sick and empty.

This wasn’t what she’d wanted.

“Sonny-”

“Ma, get out.”

“No, listen-”

“I said get out.  Go outside, go get a drink.  Whatever.  I’ll talk to you when I’m done with him,” Sonny ground out at her and she only nodded, heading for the door with hardly a glance in anyone else’s direction.  

She waited for a long time.

Took quite a few deep breaths, barely suppressed the desire to walk down to a corner store or a bodega for the first cigarette she would’ve had in forty-five years.  It’s an idea she almost acted on, if Sonny hadn’t taken that moment to storm out of the front of the restaurant and face her with blue eyes iced over in rage.

“Is he alright?” she asked softly.

“The spell is gone.  I had to give him a few sprinkles of belladonna in his drink to get him to stop hyperventilating.”

Her eyes slipped closed.

This wasn’t what she wanted.

“Sonny, I-”

“What in the hell were you thinking?” he asked, seething.  He took her hand, pulled her around to the alley next to the building where he could pace.  

She wanted a cigarette.  

“I’m sorry.”

She meant it.  

“You’re  _ sorry _ ?!” he cried incredulously.  “You know, I thought you were just giving him a hard time.  Hazing or whatever.  Ever so gently clueing him in to the fact that our family was a little different.  But no.  I realize now that you’ve gone off your goddamn rocker completely.”

“Sonny, language,” she said out of habit and he laughed.  This dry, sarcastic laugh that had no humor whatsoever and she wished she hadn’t spoken.

“No, you know what?  I’m going to say whatever I damn well please, Ma, because this has gone way too far now.”  He paced a few feet and whirled around, pointing a finger directly at her face.  “You need to deal with your shit.”

She gasped.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m marrying a man,” he said defiantly and she flinched. “I’m marrying a man and either you accept that or we stop coming around.”

“Sonny, don’t you dare talk to me like that.  I’ve always been supportive-”

“Yeah, because you were hoping I’d end up with a woman and it wouldn’t matter,” he pointed out angrily.  “You were always trying to set me up with so-and-so’s daughter down the street, some girl you’d met in the beauty shop or at church.  I’ve always noticed, Ma, even if you didn’t. The point was pretty clear.”

She stopped, opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

She knew… knew she was doing this but it wasn’t because she didn’t want to think of her son with a man, it was just because all those girls  _ fit _ .  They could have been Carisis, every one of them.  It wasn’t that she couldn’t bear to think of her son with one of the gay men there in town, the ones people at church looked on with open distaste.

“I just want you to be happy,” she said instead, even as those same faces flashed behind her eyes.

She couldn’t bear for those people to look at her Sonny that way.

Her kind, sweet, brilliant, wonderful Sonny.

They would never be able to see him past who he loved.

“Rafael makes me happy.  He makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my life,” Sonny said, running a hand over his face.  “And I’ve had a good life, Ma.  You know that and you know I wouldn’t say it lightly.  I’ve had this great life because of you and Pops and the girls but goddamn it, Ma.  I want to share that with him and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure that I don’t get to.”

“I…”

She couldn’t argue.

It was true.

Suddenly she wished for her grandmother’s voice again but heard only silence.

Tessa only had herself to blame.

“I want you to work on this,” he told her, some of the fight bleeding out of him.  “I want you to see what kind of peace you can make with yourself because so help me God, Ma.  I won’t let you keep hurting him.  I’d rather never see you again that submit him to what you just did for a second time.”

Her heart stopped in her chest.

Knees went weak.

Sonny looked pained too, like the words had hurt him just as much as they had hurt her.  

“I’m sorry,” she murmured and she meant it.  “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Sonny walked out of the alleyway after another heavy breath and suddenly it was Tessa.  Alone again, thinking of what she’d done.  Of the hole she’d managed to dig herself into.  She thought of those faces at church again and found her stomach rolling.  Thought of Rafael’s stricken face, murmuring his deepest fears of losing Sonny.  Or waking up to realize he never had him at all.  

Tessa belatedly realized that it was a fear they had in common.

She left the alleyway with tears cooling on her cheeks.

Tessa wanted a cigarette.  

 


	3. Amas Veritas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa realizes what she's done - and does her best to make amends before the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, we thank all of you wonderful readers who grace us with your kindness and comments even on fun, ridiculous Halloween things like this. Creating Tessa was a joy for us, we're both very attached, and we can only hope that you end up liking her as much as we do.
> 
> AHumanFemale would like to apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up, as real life interfered this week.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. <3

 

Tessa didn’t see Rafael again until late August, for her husband’s birthday.  

Sonny kept to his word, stayed away from their home.  Always with a good excuse, stating he was busy.  That work was picking up and court was even crazier and all his spare time was spent sleeping.  It was probably partly true but Tessa knew the rest of the story.  Knew what she’d done to her only son, to the man he loved.  She felt it with every breath, with every beat of her heart.  Even sometimes in the way Dom looked at her, the way he seemed to want to say something and never could, because as much as he loved his wife he missed his son too.  

When Tessa finally opened the door to them late that morning on Dom’s birthday, she had to swallow against the lump in her throat and avoid hanging on to Sonny for too long.  She was gratified when he hugged her right back - holding tight, whispering a soft “Hey, Ma,” into her ear before pulling away and ushering Rafael inside in front of him.  She offered a polite greeting to the man but he only nodded, regarding her warily.  His unease around her was earned but she doubted he knew why he felt it - repeated spells were excellent at obscuring details and she’d done more than enough to make Rafael afraid of her, even if he didn’t remember why.  

Shame twisted in her stomach.

Still, the rest of the day passed without issue.

People flitted in and out of the house most of the day, laughing and drinking while Dom and Sonny ran the grill and her girls took turns passing the baby around.  Tessa was content to putter around her kitchen, putting the last touches on Dom’s cake and worrying her lower lip every time she looked out the kitchen window to find Rafael standing slightly apart from everyone else, sipping distractedly at a beer and looking to Sonny with a smile every so often.  She wanted to tell him to come inside, to keep her company.  She knew what it was like to have people wear on the nerves, to find yourself exhausted alone in a sea of people.  Tessa had been odd most of her life - she knew what it was like to stand constantly apart from everyone around you.

Almost on command Rafael stood from the bench in her rose garden and headed for the back door, beer in hand a tight smile playing across his lips.  He was wearing a light jacket and a nice collared shirt and still looked more like a Barba than a Carisi - the rest of her brood was in well loved jeans and short sleeves - but Tessa was through imagining him as different, as an outsider from her family.  She was happy to see the pale pink shirt and the white jacket.  She wished he’d take it off, make himself comfortable, but she was starting to think now that it would be less comfortable for him without it.  

Standing at the island in the middle of the room, she watched as he came into the kitchen and his eyes landed on her only to widen.  The question in his eyes was obvious - to stay, uncomfortable, or to go back where he was and be uncomfortable there?  She smiled, understanding, and kept right on with what she was doing.  Spooning cream cheese icing into a piping bag and debating how fancy she wanted the writing to be.  It seemed to soften him up for a moment, his shoulders loosening ever so slightly.  

“You done with all that ruckus for a little while?” she questioned kindly and watched his shoulders loosen even more.  “I love them dearly but having them all in one place could wake the dead.”

He smirked.  “It’s… overwhelming.”

“Can be,” she allowed.  “I’m used to it, mostly.  And when I’m not I hide in here and pretend to be busy.”

“Busy with frosting?”

“It’s an artform, Rafael.  You wouldn’t understand.”

He chuckled lightly and set his beer down on the counter.  

“Do you need help?”

Tessa looked up again, surprised.  

“With this?” 

“No, the laundry,” he snarked but Tessa didn’t think it sounded cruel.  “Yes, with that.  I’ve never made a cake but I’ve eaten plenty and could probably manage.”

The gesture warmed her and she grinned.

“You’d be wrong.  You’d get this frosting all over those nice clothes and I won’t have that,” she said but Rafael looked dejected so she added, “But I’m going to need some of those saucers in the sink so if you want to wash those I’d appreciate it.”

He nodded.

“That I can do.”

They work in companionable silence for a while and Tessa is shocked to realize that the two of them can exist in the same space so easily.  Neither feel the need to break silences, neither of them find small talk necessary.  They work around each other and ask for what they need and it felt... comfortable.  So comfortable that Tessa didn’t want it to end, because something told her that this was the Rafael she’d been failing to see all along.  She couldn’t help the regret that welled up at that and tried to push it down, tried to find the words to apologize while the two of them were alone together, but suddenly the moment was gone and the back door was opening.  

Sonny, holding a bottle of wine.

Sunlight filtered silver and gold through her son’s hair and his blue eyes were laughing and happy, lips tilted up in a playful smile as he looked at his fiance.  Her eyes were drawn to Rafael, who lit up at the sight of her son.  She heard him sigh, something deep and painfully sweet that seemed to pull up from the tips of his toes.  Like Sonny pulled the life from him, like the two of them were the only people in the world.

Tessa flew back in time.

To an afternoon just like this one, almost forty years ago.  

To Dom, sneaking in that same back door with her favorite wine and his laughing eyes and wheat colored hair and Tessa remembered what it felt like to look at him and feel everything in her call out for him.  To feel the circle of his arms, the warmth of his breath on her cheek.  She remembered the crush of her chest at the weight of her love for him and the smell of mint in her nose, the transplant from her mother’s garden still going strong even now - growing happily in the window a foot from Rafael’s smiling face.  

_ Mint on the windowsill in August brings you truths, for better or worse. _

Tears burned her eyes.

Heart stuttered, breath caught.

Rafael loved Sonny, loved him so much it hurt.

Rafael loved Sonny the way she loved Dom.

Completely, painfully.

So much that it felt like they were only ever two halves of one whole, destined to find each other.  Destined to adore one another in a way they would never be able to do with anyone else.  She loved Dom until she was weak in the knees, pliant and lovesick and endlessly grateful that her soul had chosen to find his.  When it came to her husband, Tessa would only ever be low-hanging fruit.

Rafael was low-hanging fruit too.

_ What had she done? _

“Ma?” Sonny questioned and her eyes were drawn back to the present, to her son and the man he loved looking on with concern.  “Hey, you alright?”

“Fine,” she gasped but even she could hear the tears in her voice and her son didn’t buy it for a moment, leaving his place at Rafael’s side to rush to hers.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brow furrowed and lips pursed.  Suddenly she could see the toddler again, worrying at a puzzle that eluded him.  

“Nothing, baby,” she said and pressed her palm to his cheek.  “Nothing at all, I promise.  Just happy.”

Her son grinned.

Bright and strong and so perfect it hurt.

“Me too,” he said and for the first time in over a year she believed him.

“Good.  Then you won’t mind putting all these candles on your father’s cake,” she said with another pat on his cheek.  “I’ll be back in a minute.  I owe your father a kiss.”

Tessa walked out the back door, leaving the two of them to their moment, and even as she planted a long kiss on her husband’s lips she started thinking.

She was going to make this better.

 

**…**

 

Tessa thought for a long time, tried to think of ways she could apologize for how she’d treated Rafael for so long.  Nothing would ever make up for the fear spell and she knew that, even if Rafael would never be able to remember what had happened to him that night.  That was something she would have to live with, and she would.  She’d go to confession and accept penance but in the meantime she had a job to do - the one God had gifted her with in the first place, and that was magic.

Rafael slept terribly, so first she made him tea.

Tiny cheesecloth sachets with recognizable ingredients, dried in her kitchen window while she whispered old Italian lullabies she hardly understood anymore.  Still, magic floated on the air with every word and when they dried it was with purple on the edges of the leaves and the fingerprints of Tessa’s magic.  She made an entire box of them, delivering them to Sonny’s door herself late one night.  Each was tied with a delicate purple bow and Sonny had taken them gratefully, with a soft smile and wrinkles at his eyes that suggested that he, at least, was on his way to forgiving her.  She left him with a kiss on his cheek and instructions to avoid use with alcohol.

Rafael came to Sunday dinner two weeks later and the bags under his eyes were all but gone, his skin had a healthy glow that brought out the gold in his skin and the green in his eyes.  The unease around her had even faded - no longer was he loathe to share a room with her for more than a few minutes.  He even found a moment to take her aside and thank her for the tea because he hadn’t felt so good in years. 

“Sonny told me you were gifted,” he remarked casually and Tessa smirked.  “He didn’t say you were a miracle worker.”

“You have no idea,” she’d said and smiled wider at Rafael’s bewildered look.

The week after that, she’d realized another mistake.

Her son had taken a new apartment with his soon-to-be husband and Tessa had yet to give them a gift to signify the occasion.  A special occasion, as it was their first home together and they had worked so hard for it.  They both worked long hours in stressful jobs and Tessa was aware of how difficult it must be for them to come home and leave work at the door.  She wanted her gift to reflect that, to give them something to help them to calm and relax after work.  Of course, she also wanted to have some fun with it.

Expertly she went to work weaving together herbs and flowers into an intricate broomstick shape.  Jasmine for sleep, lavender to reduce stress and anxiety.  Rosemary for memory - to remember, always, that this was their refuge from the world outside.  So that they would always remember this love they had managed to find in one another, even when it was hard.  Even when they stayed awake for long nights to fight and stress and wonder just what they’d done to deserve being stuck with the other.  

Mint, but this one was for her.

There would be no lying in their house, even by omission.

Rafael would thank her later, when Sonny tried to lie about being sick.

“Don’t forget your heritage Sonny,” she said as she presented the handwoven broomstick to her son, who lit up the moment he saw the thing.

He scoffed.

“Me?  Never.”

Even though his fiancé had a skeptical look on his face she could already see her spell working on him, his guard coming down.  Eyes less pinched, his brow smoothing.  With a smile she reminded Sonny to keep it hanging near the doorway and to not take it down without taking precautions to keep the spell in place, though that last part was added once Rafael had left to find a hammer and nails from Sonny’s toolbox in the hall closet.  There were some family secrets that were better left unlearned - for a little while, at least.  Maybe until they were married and there was nothing Rafael could do about the family he’d chosen to take as his own.

“We love it,” Sonny told her as she prepared to leave.

Her son wrapped Tessa in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead, thanking her.  Presumably for the broomstick, but maybe also a little bit for the steps she was taking to accept what she’d done and try to make amends.  She still had work to do, but at Rafael’s contented sigh as he claimed a spot on the end of their couch, she felt like she was on the right track.

The next step needed to be bigger.

Big enough to make up for taking Rafael’s choice to share his personal life with her away from him.  

It was a sign of good faith and their repaired relationship that Sonny trusted her enough to borrow Rafael’s favorite tie.  

“Lucky,” Sonny corrected when he snuck it to her after dessert one Sunday night, “I mean, he’d rather die than tell you that.  But he only wears it in important meetings and I know better.”

“My smart boy,” she praised and rewarded his undercover work with a pan of brownies to take home.  

Tessa took her time with this one, focusing on the intensely dark aubergine swath of fabric as though it would wake up and tell her what exactly to do with it.  She considered a charm spell, thinking of Rafael’s brusque demeanor, and decided against it.  His demeanor was part of why he was so good at what he did.  Briefly she entertained the idea of an attraction spell - something to make him even better looking than he already was - but she dismissed that idea as well, knowing already that Rafael liked how he looked and so did Sonny.  

In the end, the decision was made for her.

She spelled the tie with cedarwood and cypress root, ginger and sweet fennel.  She’d hung it facing a mirror for three days exactly chanted old Latin words until they lined the fabric, resting on every stitch.  The tie knew its owner, knew the man far more than Tessa would and so it only needed a gentle push.  The reminder to let Rafael be who he was, the assurance that other people would see him exactly as he was.

Smart, capable.

Passionate.

Determined.

Caring.

Quick-tongued and quick-witted and willing to fight.  

Sonny could feel the spell as soon as she snuck it back to him and his eyes grew soft and approving, assuring her that she was just in time.  Rafael was going for his last interview with the District Attorney in two days to discuss a possible promotion and he’d mostly already given up, knowing they were also looking at a new upcomer from Chicago for the position who was younger with a clean slate.

Tessa scoffed, patting Sonny’s cheek and assuring him Rafael had nothing to worry about.

Three days later, Rafael was passed over for a position as the Executive Assistant District Attorney for Manhattan.

Instead his name had been passed on to the governor to be considered for a position on the New York Court of Appeals.  The DA’s picks had yet to be passed over and so it was understood that within a year, Rafael would be on the bench.

Rafael was going to be a judge.

Her son couldn’t have been more proud if Rafael had been unanimously elected president.  They threw a family dinner in his honor, meeting in Manhattan one Friday night and taking up half the restaurant to toast him and eat too much and celebrate Rafael’s accomplishment.  One well earned, one that would do the people of this state good.  The man was wearing his lucky tie that night and Tessa made sure to compliment him on it, knowing now that the spell had been perfect - Rafael only ever needed to be himself and everything else would fall in line.

“You did good, Ma,” Sonny told her against her ear when Rafael was ordering another bottle of champagne.  “Thank you.”

She only smiled.

 

**…**

 

In all the years her son had been a police officer, Tessa had never developed a taste for seeing him work.

While she loved the trashy police procedurals on television it was one thing to watch and understand that things would be resolved in forty minutes (plus commercials) and another entirely to understand that your child was dealing with real crimes and real victims.  Nothing was guaranteed to be resolved at all, much less in an hour.  Tessa had seen that firsthand while Sonny was still fresh out of the academy, living at home until he’d saved enough for a place of his own.

He’d been sad a lot.

And tired.

As tired as Rafael looked now, on the steps of Sonny’s precinct.

She’d stopped by because she was in the city checking on the florist for the wedding - three weeks away now - and instead of surprising her son she’d found her future son-in-law on the front steps, arguing with another man.  A larger, older man with a wide red face and a finger that was getting a little too close to Rafael’s chest for her liking.  Tessa watched, fuming while the man tried to use his size to his advantage and crowd Rafael.  A bully, she decided firmly even as Rafael stood his ground and looked angrier with every passing second.

“Or perhaps you’re not taking a perfectly reasonable deal because of that unfortunate incident with Detective Carisi,” the man mused and even from the several feet away she could see Rafael flush with temper.  “I assure, you counselor, my client had  _ no idea  _ that the detective was a police officer or he wouldn’t have felt the need to protect himself in such a way.”

“Detective Carisi had already identified himself when the client broke his nose, Buchanan,” and Tessa’s breath drew short.

Someone broke her son’s nose?!

“My client as assured me that he didn’t hear the detective identify himself at all,” the man countered and took another step in Rafael’s personal space.  “And still, despite that logic, you’re still going to take this to trial.”

“Your client raped a woman.”

“Allegedly.”

“Until I prove it.”

“Oh, I think that’ll be hard going,” the man responds with a haughty chuckle.  “Especially once the jury hears about the detective in question and his relationship to the man prosecuting the case.  How far away is the wedding now, Barba?  A few weeks?  That’s quite a conflict of interest, if you ask me.”

“If only we hadn’t disclosed over a year ago.”

“If only that mattered,” he mourned, feigning regret.  “Your pretty fiance is going to get up on that stand and win my case for me, making moon eyes at you every other second.  It won’t be hard to sell that the evidence in question is suspect if your partner is trying to help you win your case.”

That son of a bitch.  

Tessa had started forward before she realized what she was doing, marching right up to the two men and forgetting every question she’d had about roses and peonies and boutonnieres.  She marched until she’d wedged herself between them, putting herself in Rafael and forcing the man to take a few steps back.

“Tessa?” Rafael started, confused, while the man in front of her blustered.

“No one talks to him that way,” she warned, seething, even as she felt Rafael’s larger hand on her shoulder to reign her back in.  “And no one accuses my son of being a dirty cop, here where he works.  In front of God and everybody else.”

“Your son?” he asked with a smirk.

“Tessa, it’s fine,” Rafael said and she glared at him over her shoulder.

“It’s really not.  He’s an awful man who owes you an apology.”

“This is just work.  Here, Sonny’s inside-”

“Apologize,” she told the other man.

“Listen, Mrs. Carisi, I understand how this must seem but-”

“ _ Apologize _ .”

“Listen, Barba, if you can’t keep your personal life out of your professional life-”

“I gave you a chance,” she said and stepped closer, this time into his personal space.  In a moment, with only a hair of effort, his eyes had locked onto hers and he went deadly still while she concentrated every bit of her considerable gifts on the deep black of his pupils.  “What’s your name?”

“John.”

His voice was dull and flat, and Rafael was strangely quiet behind her.

“John, I think until you learn how to treat someone in my family you’re going to have to stay quiet,” she said and heard the echo of the spell in her words.  “So until you apologize to my Rafael, I don’t want to hear a word out of your miserable mouth.  Understand?”

John nodded.  

She leaned back, away from him, and stepped away.  Until she and Rafael were shoulder to shoulder when John seemed to blink his way out of the stupor, clearing his throat and blinking in confusion when not a single sound came out.  His hand came up, instantly pressing against the fleshly circle of his neck while his eyes bugged and he tried speaking.  Nothing happened, of course, because Tessa was nothing if not thorough.

“Laryngitis,” she said sadly to Rafael.  “It can really sneak up on you.”

Rafael looked skeptical.  

He stared until she patted him on the shoulder and told him she would meet them at their apartment later, after work.  They could talk about flowers then but they were obviously busy and didn’t need to be worried about her.  Rafael agreed absently and told her goodbye while Buchanan was still attempting to scream in her face, not a single syllable escaping from his muted lips.  

Sonny called her fifteen minutes later.

She could hear the strangled noise her son was making over the phone, even if it was a little nasal through his poor swollen nose.  

“What did you do, Ma?”

“Not a thing.”

“Ma!”

“Yes, son of mine?”

“You just can’t curse people,” he whispered adamantly at her and she tried to keep from laughing because it was obvious he was serious and still at work.  “It could get you into a lot of trouble!”

“I already told him how to fix it.  The solution is simple,” Tessa smirked into the phone. “To break the spell all he has to do is apologize to Rafael.”

The sound of her son’s gentle chuckle lightened Tessa’s spirits.

“Raf said it wasn’t that bad.”

“I disagreed.”

Sonny sighed.

“I love you, Ma,” he told her affectionately and it warmed her down to the tips of her toes.  

“I love you too, Sonny.”

“Now I guess I’ve gotta go convince this dickhead of a defense attorney that he has to apologize to opposing counsel so he can have his voice back.”

“Sonny, language.”

“Sorry.”

“Tell me how much he hates it,” she requested simply before she ended the call and Sonny agreed to call her back when it was over.  Sonny was quick to assure her that it would most likely be slow and painful.    

Good.

She was only sorry she wouldn’t hear the words herself.

 

**…**

 

The last three weeks before the wedding disappear in a flash.  

One day she’s completing the seating charts and then the day has arrived, a crisp October evening with a clear sky.  Rafael and Sonny recited their vows in front hundreds of guests and Tessa could see the sheen of tears in her son’s eyes even through the blur of her own, sniffling into her handkerchief and holding Dom’s arm a little tighter.  She can see Lucia Barba fighting not to do the same from across the aisle, looking at her own son with obvious adoration.

It’s perfect, Tessa thought. 

It’s all perfect.

The ceremony finished in record time - there’s something to be said for weddings outside the Catholic church - and they all retire to the ballroom for the reception.  All Sonny’s sisters have to take turns passing the microphone, embarrassing him thoroughly with all the stories Sonny would have preferred never be spoken aloud.  Rafael’s friend spoke, his mother spoke.  A childhood friend named Eddie that Tessa doesn’t know but looked at Rafael fondly anyway.  Everyone drank and laughed and ate until the cake was cut and Sonny jokingly tossed his boutonniere straight at his coworker, a young blonde who looked murderous and purposefully stared away from her date.  

Later, after the dance floor has opened, Tessa wanders.

She found Rafael outside on the balcony in the cool air, drink in hand with the full moon out.  Tessa cleared her throat and walked to stand next to him, offering a small smile in greeting.

“It was a beautiful wedding,” she commented softly. 

“It was,” he said.  “I don’t regret the fact that Sonny talked me out of just going to a Justice of the Peace.”

“I would have skinned him alive.”

Rafael grinned.

“He said almost the same thing.”

She laughed softly and leaned on the railing, looking at the full moon.

“Sonny told me about you.”

Tessa arched a brow and turned to look at him.  

“Oh?”

“And about himself,” he added, shifting his feet.  “After Buchanan I was… confused.  I had a lot of questions.”

“I told you it was laryngitis.”

“That cured itself after issuing me an apology.”

“How odd.  A medical marvel.”

“Tessa,” he started and she sighed.

“Fine, you got me,” she said and smirked at him.  “Our family history is a little interesting.”

“Understatement.”

“But accurate.”

“A lot of things make more sense now,” Rafael admitted and took a long drink.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Like how I just spill my guts at you,” he started and Tessa tenses.  “Why I couldn’t go home for a week, why I had a panic attack in the middle of my engagement party.”

“Rafael,” she murmured and met his eyes, “I did those things when I didn’t know you at all.  I was blinded by my own ignorance and I’ll never be able to fully apologize for what I did to you, but please know that I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the easiest person to like-”

“No,” she interrupted immediately.  “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” he asked softly and it didn’t take a witch to see how much Rafael had probably thought about this, doubting himself.  Wondering what he’d done to deserve it.

“When Sonny told me about himself twenty years ago, about liking men as well as women, it was easier for me to accept because I just assumed he would find a nice woman from Staten Island and it wouldn’t matter who else he liked,” she sighed and Rafael nodded knowingly.  Undoubtedly something he’d faced on his own, Tessa realized.  “My objection to you… I told myself it was because you didn’t love Sonny like he loved you.  I told myself it was about family and fitting in but it wasn’t.  It was because deep down I hadn’t accepted my son for who he was and I’m sorry that I hurt you in the process of working that out.”

Rafael stayed silent for a long minute and Tessa has fully braced herself to be told off, told to leave.  She would.  Hand to God, she wouldn’t even put up a fight if Rafael heard all this and decided that he never wanted to hear her name again for as long as he lived.  Instead he heaves a great sigh and finishes the rest of his drink in one gulp, looking up at the moon.

“I have a little history with magic too,” he said and Tessa looked over, surprised.

“I- what?”

“When I was a young child I decided that I didn’t want to fall in love,” he continued, his voice low and tired. “I had seen what love had done to my mother so I ran to the library and tried to find a way to never fall in love. I couldn’t have been but eight or so.”

Tessa nodded, wordlessly urging him to continue.

“I searched and searched but I couldn’t find a way to stop love.”  He laughed but it sounded humorless.  “That didn’t stop me, though.  I was a creative child. I found a book on magic spells and found a true love spell-”

“ _Amas Veritas_ ,” Tessa whispered.

“I didn’t know magic was real until I met your son,” he said, meeting her eyes again.  “That night, in my bedroom making my list, I purposefully chose the wildest reaches of my imagination to piece together a man who couldn’t possibly exist.  A man I would never have to fall in love with because he wasn’t real."  


She nodded.

“I remember every word, to this day,” Rafael said and twirled his empty glass on the balcony railing.  “As soon as the spell was completed I knew I’d done something impossible, the words imprinting themselves forever on the back of my mind so I compared any man I ever met to the items on that list.”

“Tell me,” Tessa asked softly and Rafael smiled before speaking.

 

> _ “He will always know how to find me.  _
> 
> _ He will know all the words to my favorite songs. _
> 
> _ He can ride a motorcycle. _
> 
> _ He can cook anything. _
> 
> _ He is kind and brave. _
> 
> _ He will never want me to be dumber than him. _
> 
> _ He is a police officer and a lawyer. _
> 
> _ His favorite shape will be a star. _
> 
> _ He will have gold hair and eyes that change with the weather. _
> 
> _ He will love me for me even when I don’t love myself.” _

 

“Of course at the time I didn’t realize that a man could fall for another man,” Rafael let out a strained chuckle before continuing, his tone despondent. “You cannot hate me more than I hate myself for taking that choice away from him.”

“Oh Rafael,” Tessa couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips. “That’s not how  _ Amas Veritas _ works.”

This forced him to look up, taken aback.

“ _ Amas Veritas _ doesn’t make that person pop into existence,” she assured him.  “Sonny was always going to live, regardless of your spell.  The difference that  _ Amas Veritas _ makes is that you are guaranteed to find him.”

“But that list-”

“That list was so you would recognize him.  Not so that the spell would force someone to have those traits.”

Rafael laughed suddenly.

A deep belly laugh that has her laughing along with him and it occurred to her then that she’d never heard him laugh at all.  Not really, not like he actually thought something was funny.  With every breath between them she could hear the weight being lifted from his heart - the worry that he’d forced Sonny into loving him, had conjured him into existence as a child because he was so afraid of falling in love.

Tessa didn’t know how she’d ever missed this.

Her lingering prejudices had kept her from seeing Rafael for who he was and maybe they’d lost time but she would only ever try and make it up for as long as she lived.

“I’m sorry I got in the way of your true love, Rafael,” she said once they’d calmed and Rafael had wiped away the tears in his eyes.  “You don’t have to accept this apology, accept me, but I just wanted to tell you.  I can see how Sonny looks at you now.  He sees you in red and green and gold and I should have too.”

“I understand,” he told her, nodding.  “Just- just no more.  If you don’t like me say something.  No more of your spells.”

“Agreed,” she said easily.  “May I hug you?”

He nodded and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his neck, holding tight as tears threatened to form again.  

“You have my Sonny,” she told him against his ear, “But you have me too, Rafael, and I couldn’t be prouder to call you my son.”

“Thank you,” Rafael said, voice stilted, and she could feel how much there still was to say but it could wait.  Another time, another night.  When emotions weren't so high and everything wasn't so new.

“It’s about time.”

They broke apart to find Sonny staring at both of them, hands on his hips with an exasperated expression.  

The sputter in unison.  

“What are you talking about?” Rafael asked, indignant while Tessa only smiled.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he told his new husband and Tessa saw Rafael roll his eyes out of the corner of her own.  “Ma, our dance is coming up.  Join me?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said and turned to Rafael.  “Mind if I steal your husband for a few minutes?”

“He was your son first.”

“But your true love before I’d even laid eyes on him,” she said and patted Rafael’s cheek.  “We’ll be right back.”

Tessa took her son’s arm as he led her back onto the dance floor, twirling her until she was laughing and a little giddy with champagne bubbling in her blood and happiness careening around in her chest.  The DJ announced the next dance and the first few notes played, leading Tessa to scoff and playfully slap Sonny’s shoulder.

“Bewitched”, by Frank Sinatra played as they started their dance and Sonny looked so proud of himself she couldn’t bear to say anything about it.

“I’m proud of you,” he told her and she looked up, surprised.  

“What did I do?”

“You thought about what I said, you worked on it,” he elaborated with a soft look in his eyes.  “You realized how important Rafael was to me and you accepted him.”

“I should have done it a long time ago,” she admitted, embarrassed even now that she’d made her peace.  “I’m sorry, baby.”

“We’re good, Ma,” he assured her.  “Just no more funny stuff.”

“Me?” she asked with a wink.  “Never.”

Sonny twirled her again, laughing.  

“So when are you giving me more grandchildren?” she asked, barely suppressing a cackle at Sonny’s annoyed scoff.  “What?  That’s always what you ask newly married couples.”

“We’ve been married for an hour and a half.”

“I said ‘newly’.”  

“I’m not the one you gotta convince, Ma,” he said, spinning her until she could see Rafael out on the balcony again, watching them dance with a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.  

Tessa locked eyes with her son-in-law, a smirk turning up the corner of her mouth.  Rafael had the decency to look mildly afraid, eyes widening and back straightening, and this time she did cackle a little.  

She thought of her garden, brimming with promise.

“Don’t worry son of mine,” she said, “I think I can convince him.”


End file.
